The Kings of Broadway
by Elephantian
Summary: Mark is forced to meet his great uncle, Max Bialystock, producer extraordinaire. Soon, Mark gets wrapped up in the sweet life of his great uncle and new friend, Leo. When they drag him into a scheme, will Mark be able to escape? [RENTProducers crossover]
1. Chapter 1

**I'm pretty sure The Producers and RENT take place at different times, but for my story, they take place at the same time. I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own RENT or The Producers. You can thank Jonathon Larson and Mel Brooks for those.**

"Mark, it's your mother. Pick up the phone honey. Please? It's Chanukah Mark, the least you can do is talk to your mother for the first time this year."

Mark sighed before picking up the phone. "Hey Mom," he grumbled.

"Thank goodness you picked up Mark," Mrs. Cohen said, "Well, I was looking through some old photo albums, when I came across a picture of your Great-Uncle Max."

Mark mentally groaned. Not more family. "What about him?" he asked.

"He'd always talk about him wanting to see one of my children," Mrs. Cohen began and Mark could tell it would only it was only going to go downhill, "I don't want to bother Cindy, her having to be with the kids and all. But Great-Uncle Max lives in New York City…"

"No," Mark protested weakly, "I'm not going."

"Please Mark," Mrs. Cohen begged, "Just try and find him. It would mean a lot to me. Count it as a Chanukah present. You wouldn't even have to pay for it. Please?"

Mark pondered for a moment. "What's his name?" he finally said, giving up.

"Maxwell Bialystock," Mrs. Cohen answered, "He's a producer."

Producer? Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

**Break Here**

"Max Bialystock," Mark muttered to himself, leafing through a phonebook, "Max Bialystock. Here it is! Maxwell Bialystock, Broadway Producer."

Mark picked up the phone and dialed the number, twisting the cord around his finger nervously.

"Bialystock and Bloom," a female voice answered, probably Finnish or Norwegian or something like that Mark guessed, "How can Ulla help you?"

"Is Mr. Bialystock there?" Mark asked.

"No, he's not."

"Well, can you tell him that his nephew, Mark Cohen, called?"

"Okee slash dokey." Ulla answered before the line went dead.

Mark hung up the phone, a bit flabbergasted. What kind of person was his great-uncle anyway?

"Hey Mark," a voice said, startling him, "What's up?"

Mark looked up into Roger's green eyes. "I found out I have a Great-Uncle Max who's a Broadway producer and has a foreign secretary. My mom is making me visit him."

"Cool," Roger replied like his friend's answer had been completely normal, "So where are you gonna go visit?"

Mark sighed and put on his jacket and scarf. "How about now?"

**Break Here**

Mark slowly walked up the steps to his great-uncle's apartment and office. He wished Roger was there and recalled the conversation they'd had earlier.

_"Please come Roger," Mark begged._

_"Mark, this is your uncle, you'll be fine," Roger insisted, "Anyway, he should get to know you first before you drag along friends."_

_Mark pondered his friend's advice. "Alright. Well, talk to you later then."_

Mark tentatively knocked on the door that read 'Bialystock and Bloom' and some other stuff Mark didn't take the time to read before he knocked on the door. A stout little man with a ratty mustache answered.

"Hello?"

"Yes," Mark said, "Hi, I'm Mark Cohen. I called earlier. The secretary picked up."

"She didn't say anything about it," the man interrupted, "Hey, did you say your last name was 'Cohen'?"

"Yes."

"I think my niece got married to some guy named Cohen," the man mused, "What's your mom's name?"

"Patricia Simons-Cohen," Mark answered.

"Simons aye?" the man said, "That'd be her. My sister's daughter. Good old Patty. How's she doing?"

"Fine."

"Good, good. Come on in Mitch,"

"It's Mark."

"Of course it is."

Mark followed the man into the apartment, which was stark white and made his eyes hurt. A boyish man sat at a desk, talking to a tall blonde.

"Miles," the man said, "This is my partner and my secretary."

"It's Mark," Mark said, "And nice to meet you both. I'm Mark Cohen."

"Leopold Bloom. Or just Leo." The man answered.

"I am Ulla Inka Hanson Benson Yanson Tallen Hallen Swadon Swanson." The lady answered.

"I think we met on the phone," Mark said, "What's your first name?"

"That IS my first name."

"Right. Well, I'll just call you Ulla."

"Smart move kid," the unnamed man said, "Anyway, I'm Max Bialystock and probably the person you came here to see."

"That's right," Mark said.

"So Mr. Cohen…"

"Mark."

"Mark," Leo continued, "What brings you here? Got a play you'd like us to read?"

"No. I was sent here by my mom because she wanted me to see my Great-Uncle Max for some reason."

Leo stifled a laugh. "I wonder why," he muttered, "Hey Mark, what do you do?"

"Well, I don't really have a steady job, but I'm a cameraman."

Max's eyes lit up. "A cameraman?" he asked mischievously, "Oh Marshall, it's a good thing you stopped by."

"It's Mark."

"That's what I said."

"Well Mark," Leo said, "You're welcome here any time. Why don't the two of us go out to lunch, my treat?"

Mark smiled. "Sure."


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm so sorry for the long wait! I couldn't figure out what to write. That's what I get for not planning ahead. Enjoy!**

"Have you ever been to Sardi's Mark?" Leo asked.

Mark cringed. It sounded fancy. "No," he said quietly, "Have you ever been to the Life Café?"

"I can't say I have," Leo said, "Is it any good?"

"It's okay, but it's the best a bohemian can do," Mark answered casually.

Leo gave him a quizzical look. "Um, well then, let's go there I guess. I think I'd like to try this bohemian café."

Break Here 

"Can I have a veggie burger with bacon, fries and a strawberry milkshake?" Mark asked.

The waiter nodded and jotted down his order. "And for you?"

"Um," Leo said hesitantly, "I think I'll have…the same thing."

The waiter rolled his eyes before writing down Leo's order and walking off.

"So filthy rich Broadway producers eat veggie burgers and fries and milkshakes?" Mark asked, "A.k.a. junk food? I thought you guys were into shrimp cocktails and wine and lobster."

Leo smiled. "Mark, there's a lot to learn about the producing world," he said, "First off, that stuff is nice, but sometimes you just can't beet junk food. I haven't had a burger of any kind since I became a producer a few years ago and I figured it was time to get back into old, _good_ habits."

"Yeah well," Mark said, "I'm just glad to have a burger. Of course, beggars can't be choosers."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, out of my seven friends only about three of us have jobs. And one isn't really a good one. And Angel's hit money is dwindling down."

"Hit money?"

Mark blushed. "Oh, it's nothing."

Just then the waiter arrived with the food. "Two veggie burgers with bacon, fries and two strawberry milkshakes." He recited before putting down the plates in front of Leo and Mark.

Before either took a bite out of their food, they heard a shrill voice yell, "Mark! Marky! Pookie, it's me!"

Mark rolled his eyes and said, "Hi Maureen."

"Who's your friend?" she asked, pouting her lips.

"Oh, Maureen, this is Leopold Bloom, my great-uncle's business partner," Mark said, "Leo, this is my ex-girlfriend and old roommate Maureen Johnson."

"Nice to meet you," Leo said, standing up and extending his hand.

But instead of the expected handshake, Leo got a big hug.

"Handshakes!" Maureen exclaimed, "So impersonal! Come on, loosen up Bloomsie-boy! You're like family!"

"Family?" Leo asked, his eyes wide.

"Yeah," Mark answered, "Friendship is thicker than blood. Leo, you're our friend. You're family. Great-Uncle Max is the first time I've seen my family in the flesh in probably five years. My friends are my family."

"Yes, but, I'm married!" Leo exclaimed, "What would my wife think is she saw this?"

"Married?" Maureen said, pulling away, "No one ever said anything about that. I mean, the only one of our friends who's married is…"

"Benny." Mark finished, disgust in his voice, "Leo, you said I had a lot to learn about the producing world. Well, you have a lot to learn about the bohemian world. Maureen, it's been nice seeing you, but Leo and I have to finish up lunch so I can take him on a tour of Bohemia."


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the long wait. Um, there'll be some scheming in just a few chapters, so sit tight. Enjoy!**

**Hey, DHW27 (DrkHrtWritr27) here again. Just so you all know, elephantian is gonna be bak in one week! Just thought you might want to know. Enjoy this chapter! **

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Leo pulled his jacket tighter around him. "Mark," he said, "Are you sure it's safe here? I don't want to get mugged."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's not safe," Mark said nonchalantly, "And there is a pretty good chance we will get mugged. But hey, this is Alphabet City, what do you expect? Anyway, we're almost to the loft. I want you to meet my roommate, Roger. Angel might be there. But I know that Collins, Joanne and Mimi are working."

"What do they do?" Leo asked kindly.

"Collins a professor at New York University," Mark answered, "He teaches actual reality. Joanne is a lawyer. Oh, and Mimi's a dancer."

"Really? What kind of dance?"

"Uh," Mark said hesitantly, "I'm not really sure what kind of dance, but I know where she works."

Leo's face lit up. "Oh I love to watch people dance!" he said cheerfully, "Do you think we could go watch her later?"

Mark laughed. "Um, okay, sure, we'll go see Mimi later."

"What's so funny?" Leo asked.

"Oh nothing," Mark said quickly, "Anyway, we're here."

Leo scanned the building in front of him. "Excuse me, where do you live?"

Mark pointed to the building Leo was looking at. "In here. Top floor."

Leo started to laugh. "You…you've got to be pulling my leg!" he said, "No one can live here! It's a dump!"

Mark frowned. "Just because it isn't up to your high standard doesn't mean that people can't live here," Mark said, "Anyway, a lot of people would be very happy with our loft. Despite that fact that it usually doesn't have heat (or air conditioning) and electricity, we're all really happy with the loft."

"I'm sorry Mark," Leo said, "I…I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sure your loft is very nice."

Mark smiled slightly. "Don't worry about it," he said, before yelling, "Roger! I'm coming in and I'm bringing a guest so get your lazy butt dressed! You better not be naked or having sex where I can see you in 3…2…1! I'm coming in!"

With that, he pulled the door open. Roger was nowhere in sight and they heard his door close, causing Mark to smirk and Leo to blush.

"Do you always yell at him like that before you walk in?" Leo asked.

"No," Mark answered, "Only when I bring home girls, which isn't often, or when we have visitors that don't include our five closest friends."

"Mark," Roger said, entering the room in a t-shirt from his old band and flannel pajama pants, "Did you have to announce to the entire world that I strut around the loft naked?"

Mark eyes widened. "You mean you do?"

Roger blushed. "No stupid," he said, "But you made it seem like I did."

Mark laughed. "Roger, this is Leopold Bloom, my great-uncle's partner. Leo, this is Roger Davis."

"Nice to meet you," Leo said, giving Roger a hug.

"Whoa now," Roger said, backing out of the hug, "What the fuck was that for? I've barely known you for two damn seconds!"

"S-s-sorry," Leo said, "It's just that I met your other friend, Maureen, at the café and she gave me a hug. I'm sorry."

Roger laughed. "If there's anything you don't want to do," he said, "It's totake advice from Maureen."


End file.
